


As the Years Come and Go

by EAU1636



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Dad and mum are still in love, F/M, Slow Dancing, set during series 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAU1636/pseuds/EAU1636
Summary: A short, fluffy Thursday birthday fic.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse & Fred Thursday, Fred Thursday/Win Thursday
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	As the Years Come and Go

Fred finished jotting down the last few lines of the statement he’d just taken from the bored looking young man opposite him, and looked over at the crowd of witnesses still waiting to be interviewed. He let out a weary sigh. At this rate it would still be another few hours before they finished up.

There was nothing for it, he’d have to call Win and tell her he’d be late. He tried not to picture the spark of excitement he’d seen in her eyes as she saw him off that morning.

Gone were the days of children’s birthday parties and special treats slipped into school lunches. Win had always been the one who made things magical. The pride and joy she’d radiated when she saw Joan or Sam’s face light up with delight was only a memory now. But he’d seen a glimmer of it this morning, and had known she had something special planned for his birthday.

Not that he felt there was much to celebrate. Another year older, further from the man he’d been, less ahead than behind. Less to hold onto with each coming year.

Still, after two weeks straight of late nights and working weekends, it had finally been a slow week at the nick, he thought he’d at least be home to spend the evening with Win.

But then came a shooting in a crowded club. The sort of sordid crime that required no speculation and held no interest, only the same story he’d seen played out a hundred times. A jilted lover with a short fuse. Three lives ruined in the blink of an eye. He and Morse had been called out to clean up the mess that was left behind.

It had been clear from the moment they’d arrived that he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner, that when all was said and done Win would probably be asleep before he’d made it in the front door.

But he’d put off calling her, dreading the disappointment in her voice, the well worn reassurances she’d had to give too many times through the years.

That she understood. That work came first.

And it had, far too often.

He glanced down at his watch. She’d expect him any minute now. He had to call. Waiting would only make things worse.

He saw Morse look up from his seat to throw him a questioning glance as he asked the manager where the phone was and headed into the back office to make the call.

As he dialed, Fred pictured her waiting for him eagerly, pictured her face when she heard the phone ring, the way she’d know before he even said a word.

“Fred?” She answered.

He knew his cue. “Yes, love. I’m so sorry to have to do this.”

“Somethings come up at work?”

“Yes.”

“It’s alright. No worries,” her voice aimed for a lightness it couldn’t reach, and fell flat.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I know. Just come home safe.”

He set down the phone and hung his head. Hating himself and the job and the impatient, shuffling procession of witnesses waiting outside the office door. Hating the familiar guilt that hung about his shoulders more often than her arms.

He left the quiet of the office and called over another witness, took down another name, fell in step with the mindless routine.

He didn’t notice a few minutes later when Morse rose and headed into to the back office.

Fifteen minutes later, he finished with another witness and stood for a moment to stretch his legs. He saw Morse look over towards the door and give a nod.

Fred turned and was surprised to see Strange, Fancy and Trewlove making their way over.

“What are you lot doing here? Strange, it’s your day off.”

He turned to the two young constables, “And you two are meant to be finishing up logging in those boxes of evidence back at the station.”

“Got bored at home, sir,” Strange said, and then pressed his mouth firmly together to hold back a grin. “Just thought I’d see if I might be able to do anything here.”

“And we’ve finished up already,” Fancy chimed in, not bothering to hide his lopsided smile. “Shirl-- err, that is, Trewlove is as efficient as they come.” He threw a sideways glance at the golden haired WPC beside him and his smile grew.

“Should we get started with witnesses?” Trewlove asked, eyes bright and face betraying no hint of amusement.

Fred knew when he was beaten, and could only nod. The three of them spread out to begin taking statements.

Fred turned to look at Morse, and saw him duck his head down in feigned concentration, his cheeks pink and lips pursed.

Cheeky sod. Fred cleared something gathering in his throat and straightened up to get back to the task at hand.

Half an hour later, they were nearly done. Strange, Trewlove and Fancy insisted on finishing out the last few witnesses and Morse offered to drive Thursday home.

They made the short drive in silence. As they pulled up outside the house, Fred rested his hand on the door handle and then turned to Morse.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you did. Slyness certainly isn’t your forte. I trust you’ve never won a game of poker.”

Morse grinned. “Happy birthday, sir.”

Fred nodded and got out of the car.

He made his way up the walk and opened the front door.

Win was standing just inside the hall, waiting for him, her eyes like stars and a smile on her lips.

He took off his coat and hat and hung them on the stand, and then she wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” she said warmly.

“I suppose I have an interfering sergeant to thank for letting you know I was on my way?”

She smiled up at him. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss my informants.”

He grinned and pulled her into a kiss.

She took his arm and led him into the dining room. The table was aglow with tapered candles, the light dancing across beef wellington and potatoes parmesan, his favorites, reserved for special occasions, and the same meal they’d shared so many years ago that weekend at the Dorchester. And in the center of the table a chocolate cake, the same one she’d made him every birthday for more than twenty-five years.

Too much for just the two of them surely, and much more than he deserved.

He drew her in close, dinner could wait just a little longer, and reached behind him to gently drop the needle down onto the record player.

Their song filled the room, the melody he knew by heart, Bing Crosby singing _Only Forever_ , the same song they’d danced to on their wedding night.

Though Fred could barely carry a tune, he sang along softly, his face resting close to Win’s ear.

_Do I want to be with you_  
_As the years come and go?_  
_Only forever_  
_If you care to know._

He closed his eyes as they swayed together to the music and he held his greatest gift in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this quickly written fluff the fic equivalent of a cheesy birthday card? Yep.  
> Happy Birthday to Roger Allam!


End file.
